Rhapsody of A Fallen Angel
by Shunrei Ryuzaki
Summary: Adrift in a dangerous world, Lady Rin vows to avenge her father's death and restore his name to honor. Lord Sesshomaru,her  fiance was set on a journey to trail her and save her from dangers in her quest for justice. A feudal story. SessRin
1. Chapter 1

~xxoxx~

**Rhapsody of A Fallen Angel **

**by Yui Shunrei Ryuzaki **

**Disclaimer:** InuYasha and its characters isn't mine.

~xxoxx~

**Chapter 1: Beware **

~xxoxx~

Next to Rin's chamber, the sounds of the samisen echoed in a riotous progress. As Rin knelt waiting for the right time to arrive, she heard the merrymaking as she would have heard a distant windstorm. She was still wearing her thinly quilted lavender silk robe and a heavy brocade sash. Over it, she wore a full, pinkish colored satin coated embroided with phoenix and crimson rose petals. It kept her warm in the chill night of the winter season. Its heavy, trailing sleves were folded neatly across her thighs, as though she was a guest at a tea ceremony.

The soft light from the lantern outlined the long slope of Rin's neck rising into a shiny black locks of her hair. The collars of her robes were set far back to reveal the most alluring part of a woman's body, the sensous, vulnerable curve of spine and nape. The light glowed on Rin's delicate and slender face. The gold of its flame was reflected through the dark brown orbs of Rin's eyes.

Rin had an expressive eyes. Her featherly black eyebrows arched naturally that gave her an innocent exquisite look. Her narrow, high bridged nose and her full lips of her small mouth cast shadows across her pale smooth cheek.

Rin was cultured as she was beautiful. She was the only daughter of a daimyo, Lord Hasegawa. She had been trained in music and literature and art. She had never thought she would use her skills in a brothel in Edo's pleasure district. But then she couldn't have foreseen the tragedy that had brought ruin and disgrace to her parents.

Two years ago Rin, whose real name was Hasegawa no Sakura (Cherry Blossoms in a long valley river), had arrived here on foot. Royal bloods and High ranked officials with their family members aren't allowed in this pleasure district. She had hidden herself under a travel cloak and large brimmed hat. She took with her a single chest that contains her remaining silk robes and sashes, her favorite books and scrolls, her cosmetic set and a few of her precious keepsakes.

Rin had signed a contract with the owner of the house where she would live. By the time she first stepped on the threshold of the house, she had been struck by doubt so sudden and intense, she had almost turned around and left. But Rin's nature wasn't to quit what she'd begun. She had hidden all her fear and grief with her loneliness, behind a lovely, impassive mask ever since.

It was usual custom to give oneself a new name when starting out. A different name is vital in Rin's case to keep her real identity a secret from the others. Her new friend Kumiko had begun calling her Rin. Kumiko used the name affectionately, and it caught on. Others begun to call her Rin because she was a graceful, dignified woman. But Rin couldn't replace her sorrow the way the nickname Rin replaced her old name and identity. She could only do her duty as the daughter and heiress of a lord and a warrior and endure her fate without self pity or complaint. She moved through her duties in the brothel called the Impregnable Blossoms with the grace and reserve of her class and breeding. She already had attained the second rank but she still preferred to act the part of a grand courtesan, to dazzle her guests with her wit, to talk little, and to be hard to please. She'd often been known to refuse to grant her favors, and always her guests had to spend a long time charming her but still failed to let them undo her sash. By this way, Rin kept her virginity intact and she was still as pure like a wild rose. Now it seemed that she would be spared the necessecity at politely spurning her guests.

With her legs demurely under her and the toes of one white-clad foot overlapping those of the other, Rin sat back on her ankles. The cool, tight weave of the thick rigid mats covering the wooden floor gave slightly under the pressure of her toes and knees. Rin leaned forward almost imperceptibly to study her cat.

At first she had thought that her cat had passed out from exhaustion or just fell asleep after eating some fish served on her table. Without rising from her knees, Rin moved closer. She laid two pale, slender, impeccably manicured fingers on the cat's neck. Nothing. Not a flutter of heartbeat. The cat had left its homely body, never to return. Rin felt a sudden panic rising from the seat of her soul. She drew several deep breaths. She needed to be calm. She needed to think clearly. Soon the watchman would strike midnight. At midnight, the night guard would close the small door in the great gate. He would lock Rin and her dead cat inuo the pleasure district without giving her a chance to escape from the brothel.

Rin knew that her cat was accidentally killed. The murder and death was supposed to be hers. The murder weapon, or what was left of it, lay on the tray that also served as a table. The Fish had been cleaned carelessly for a deadly purpose. Only a single slice of fish remained. Unless cleaned correctly, a speck of poison of the fish could kill a person.

_Naraku, Rin thought. He won't be content until he could have me or killed me. _

Tomorrow was the second year anniversary of her father's suicide. Lord Hitomi no Kagewaki, more commonly known as Naraku had been responsible for that suicide. Maybe Naraku feared Rin would do something rash on the anniversary day. Maybe he thought she was plotting revenge. Maybe he merely decided to ensure that Rin bore no children from another man aside from him to threaten him in the future.

With a chopstick, Rin poked the last slice of fish from the porcelain bowl. Not often did death arrive in such a lovely package. The slices of the fish had been artistically arranged in the form of a flying crane. It was the sort of ironic gesture Lord Naraku would make. The crane was a symbol of longevity. A pinch of death was spice for fornication as well as for food.

It was a great problem. Lord Naraku was trying to kill her. As Rin knelt on the floor in the pool of pale golden light thrown by the lantern, she withdrew into herself. She calmed herself and closed her eyes. Rin knew she had to act.

Slender and graceful, Rin rose in a murmur of silk and glided across the elegant room, her satin overrobe billowing behind her. She slid aside a panel of the paper wall and slipped into the small dressing room. Her toiletries lay scatted on the freestanding elegant shelves. The mirrors, combs, jars, and matched well the shelves. All bore the Hasegawa family crest. In a corner, her other big cat slept on a third set of shelves that held her books. She moved to the screen standing on the opposite corner.

"Yume-chan." Rin knelt beside the pallet behind the screen. She gently shook the sleeping child under a pair of thin blankets.

"Rin-sama." The girl sat bolt upright and met her cold gaze. "Get up, Yume-chan." "What hour is it, Rin-sama?" Yume mumbled.

"Almost midway through the midnight."

"Where are you going?" Yume was confused. The hour was too late to promenade or to run an errand. She had not gone outside the walls of the pleasure district since her distraugh and impoverished mother had sold her to Rin a year ago before the girl was eight years old. As far as Yume knew, her mistress, Rin, had left it only a few times.

"I need you to comb out my hair." Rin whispered over her shoulder as she brought the rough jug of water from the shelves. Yume hastily wrapped an apron around her wadden cotton sleeping robe, tied back her sleeves and pondered this latest surprise. Rin never drew her own water. The owner of the brothel employed a small army of maid and servants and apprentices to do that sort of work.

Rin obviously wasn't going to explain anything and Yume dared not to ask more questions. She knelt behind Rin, who sat in front of the big round mirror. While Yume untied the ribbons that held the coils of Rin's hair, Rin scrabbed the white make up from her face.

"How shall I fix it, Rin-sama?" Yume asked softly. The soft, glossy mass of hair lay across her palm, and continued combing it almost reverently.

"Simply tied it."

Yume wound a flat, red ribbon around the hair, catching it just above Rin's waist in a style no longer in fashion. The thick cascade made her appear archaic, like a lady of the royal court.

Rin looked like a demon, a very beautiful demon. She stood up from her seat and take a last look on her reflection from the mirror.

"Yume-chan, please gather the clothes I need on my trunk. I'll just scan the area before I escape." Rin told Yume in a nonchalant voice.

~xxoxx~

A/n: A concept suddenly popped out from my mind so I decided to write it down before my laziness strikes again. Please tell me what you think about this story.

Arigatou, minna-san!

~Yui Shunrei Ryuzaki


	2. Chapter 2

~xxoxx~

**Rhapsody of a Fallen Angel **

**by Yui Shunrei Ryuzaki **

**Disclaimer applies. **

~xxoxx~

**Chapter 2: Confusion and Escape**

~xxoxx~

Rin slid the quilt sling and its stiff cargo along the cherry planks of the hallway. The wood was smooth, with a satiny patina buffed by several years of daily rubbing with damp cloths. A single candle on an iron stand shed a dim light. She slowly walked towards the threshold and unto the raised wooden walkway across the dirt floor of the storeroom. Rin let her breath out slowly and waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. She should get back to her chamber sooner. When she arrived on her chamber, she reteated to her dressing room.

Rin noticed the clothes hung on a wooden rack in the small reception room that led into the sleeping chamber. She regarded them with distaste. The shogun banned his officials from frequenting the pleasure districts. The ban was ignored of course but those affected by it generally wore disguises. Yume had favored to take the clothing of a common laborer.

Rin found a length of cotton cloth in her own big cedar chest. She stripped off her robes, folded them neatly, and put them in the chest.

She stood perfectly still while Yume wound the cloth around her hips, pulled the end into the cleft of her buttocks, passed it between her legs, and tucked it into the front of the belt. When she finished, Rin was wearing the loincloth sported by men of the laboring class.

Next Rin held one end of another long piece of cloth against her abdomen while Yume walked around her, pulling it taut as she wrapped it around Rin's abdomen and chest.

"Tighter," Rin whispered.

The cloth was wore by the commoners around their stomachs for warmth and to protect their navels, the seat of their emotions. Her uptilted breasts were small, but they were taut, and the nipples were large and firm. The cloth wrapped higher than usual, would flatten and hide them.

Rin pulled on the blue drawers with their tight legs and baggy seat and tied them at the waist. Then she slipped into the light undershirt. Yume held up the dark blue wadded jacket with narrow sleeves. Rin flinched when the rough hemp cloth settled on her shoulders that reached to her knees. She overlapped the front edges and held them while Yume wrapped the wide, stiff sash three times around her and tied it in back. The child arranged the sash high on Rin's hips and rakishly low in front.

Rin pulled the jacket up to shorten the hem hanging around her knees and expand it above the sash. It made her look bigger and provided hiding places for the things she would need on the road.

Finally Rin knelt in front of her mirror again. She held her hair out taut, sucked in her breath, and, with her shears, cut it off just below of her shoulders. Yume moaned. A woman's hair was her pride.

The three foot long hank of hair was still tied with the ribbon. She coiled it and folded it into a sheet of pliable rice paper. She tied the packet inside a blue silk scarf decorated with the Hasegawa crest of crossed swords stenciled in white. She put in into the front of the jacket, under her sash. No sense leaving behind any clues as to how she looked when she escaped.

She pulled her hair together at the crown of her head and tied it into a man's topknot. She draped the guest's thin blue cotton towel over her head and knotted it just under her lower lip. Rin did this to hide her face.

Yume watched with dread and fascination. Her mistress was a shape-shifter. She was one of the enchanted cats who disguised themselves as beautiful women to cause trouble for men.

Rin hid the scissors inside her coat, under the sash. She had been planning to kill herself with them in her father's third death anniversary. Now she had a higher purpose. She had decided to take revenge instead.

"Rin-sama..." Yume sucked her knuckles nervously while Rin rifled the small travel box.

"Look down at your feet, child. Are they covered with rice paddy mad? A courtesan's little sister doesn't suck her fingers." Rin felt a sharp pang of remorse. She might be endangering the child. "The less you know about this the better, Yume-chan."

"But, Rin-sama..."

"Bring my travel cloak."

Rin didn't know what to pack for a trip. Servants had always packed for her. In fact, servants had done just about everything for her. She rolled a thin cotton towel and draped it around her neck as commoners did. Inside her jacket she stowed her flat wallet of paper handkerchief and the bag containing her long stemmed pipe. With a straw cord, she hung from her sash a bamboo container that could be used to carry water.

She found her wallet, opened the drawstring, and peered at the money inside. The three rolls of a hundred coppers each had been strung onto straw cords and the ends knotted to hold the coins tight against each other. A smaller roll was made up of silver coins.

Rin had seen money, but she had rarely held it. She folded back the opening of the wallet and touched the hard metal. She stroked the rough, round edges and wondered what these would buy. Then she pulled the drawstrings shut and tucked the sack inside her jacket.

"Please tell Mistress Kumiko, I'll miss her."

Yume handed a small brocade sack closed with a drawstring to Rin. The copper coins inside clinked cheekiky for such a piddling sum. They were her secret funds.

"No, Yume-chan," said Rin. "Keep your money. One day, if a rich, handsome man doesn't marry you first, you'll save enough money to buy your freedom."

"Rin-sama, forgive my rudeness, but this is a goodbye present." Yume gathered the courage to contradict Rin. "You'll need money to eat and sleep out there."

Yume had almost forgotten what "out there" was like, but she had overheard the guests' stories. Out there people had to struggle for their daily rice and a roof. Bandits and demons and tax collectors lurked out there.

Tears brimmed in Yume's eyes. Lady Rin had been a good mistress. She sent warmed milk out to her box bearers on cold nights. She hushed up the maids' indiscretions. And if, during a long night of entertaining, Yume fell asleep on the job, she didn't scold.

Lady Rin was haughty, that was true. But Yume knew hauteur was to be expected in a woman of a samurai family. And she sensed that Rin's eyes mocked the world so no one would pity her. Only Kumiko and Yume had seen, in Rin's rare, unguarded moments, the grief in her dark eyes.

Yume also knew that Rin was old. She would turn nineteen at the celebration of the New Year. Nineteen was a most unlucky age. The characters for nineteen also meant repeated sorrows. Rin had had more than her share of sorrow.

"The Lord Buddha will watch over me." Rin knelt so she coukd look into Yume's face. She put her best jade comb into the sack with Yume's money. "Please accept this trifle in thanks for all you've done." Rin smiled conspiratorially.

Yume slid the wall panel open just enough to slip through. Rin picked up her hat, shaped like a wide, flat, shallow bowl. She slipped the inner woven cap onto her head and tied the cords under her chin. The hat was designed to hide a face.

Rin went to the open wall panel and waited. She didn't look over her shoulder at the rooms where she had earned her living for the past years. She didn't have to wait long. Yume knew the brothel's maze of narrow back hallways well.

Rin smiled grimly to herself. There was no turning back now. The boat had been boarded, as the old saying went.

~xxoxx~

The back alleys of the pleasure district were quite different from the lovely gardens and serene front rooms where guests were received. The narrow passage was crowded with buckets and tools, broken barrows and strings of braided barrel hoops. Rin scuffed the reeking stew of alley mud onto her smooth, pale feet. She pulled the hat brim lower over her eyes and drew her slender, manicured hands into her sleeves. Abandoning the hip swaying gait of the courtesan, she walked with the deliberate care of someone drunk trying to pass for someone sober.

She moved smoothly into the unsteady stream of men who hadn't the money to stay until dawn with their "one night wives". Rin walked among them as though in a dream.

Both sides of the main thoroughfare were lined with round paper lanters hanging from the first story eavs. As the streets emptied, sleepy servants lowered the lights on the ends of long poles. Almost directly overhead, the moon which was almost full, looked like a lantern they couldn't quite reach.

Thousands of courtesans, waitress, apprentices, cooks, scullery help, and maids lived here. The City was a city of women, constant and pliant, perplexing and accommodating. Men flowed in and out like the tides. Now, as the hour approached midnight, the tide was ebbing. The flow was constricted at one narrow outlet, the small door in the Great Gate that was guarded by a man named Ginji.

As Rin drew closer she saw the old man standing, small and wiry at the gate. Ginji was seventy. Old scars cleaved the dark, wrinkled leather of his nose and parted the bush of his left eyebrow. His eyesight and memory were as keen as his blades.

The small door in the fifteen feet high gate was brightly lit with lanterns. Ginji studied every person who passed through it. He would remember the remarkable man in the shabby blue coat even though the press at the door grew more frenetic as midnight approached.

As Rin neared the periphery of Ginji's buzzard stare, she wandered out of the traffic and into the shadow of a stack of fire buckets at the head of an alley. She sneaked the bamboo cylinder from her coat and decanted it. She spread her feet, cocked her hips, and tilted the cylinder under her coat hem. While the stream of wine splashed into the dust, she stared contemplatively out over the crowd. She wore the usual look of a man astonished yet again that pissing was such a thoroughly soul satisfying act.

As she shook the last drops from the cylinder, Rin finished her survey of the crowd. Her means of escape was somewhere among the guests and servants, the messengers, jugglers and random people around her. Rin's means appeared as though on cue.

He was a person of great importance, which was why he was dressed as a peasant. Forbidding bureaucrats to visit the city was like forbidding a tidal wave to hit the shore. Thousands of men were required to run a government based on intrigue and pervasive suspicion. They were the city's most valuable customers.

This one was an inspector and an official gatherer of intelligence for the shogun's council of elders. He was a ponderous blotch of a man who had drunk too much sake to make his way to the gate unaided. Two servants supported him between them.

The inspector wore a big bamboo hat and straw sandals. Even though the night sky was cloudless, he wore a raincape made of thick layers of rice straw tied around his neck and waist. Rin recognized him. Rin hated the man for more than his casual cruelty. He was a distant cousin of Lord Naraku.

As he approached her, Rin put her small pipe in her mouth as though she were going to take a few puffs. She seperated one of her paper handkerchiefs from the folded stack of them in her wallet and twisted it. She lifted the oiled paper shade of a street lantern and lit the end of the twisted napkin. She shielded the flame with her sleeve s she swiveled smoothly. She bent and, hidden by the bulk of the servants' backs, held it to the bottom of the straw thatch raincoat as the inspector passed.

The flame spread noisily outward and upward, toward the peak of the official's straw hat. The layers of straw in the raincpe curled and blackened behind the fire exposing hairy calves and the folds of an expensive silk brocade kimono tucked up into the man's sash.

The inspector sniffed in alarm. A strong smell of smoke always made people nervous. The servants flined at the blaze with their cloaks but only succeeded in fanning it. The inspector clawed at the cape's ties, knotted at his neck and waist, while the flames reached up around him, embracing him. He began to scream. Rin could smell burning hair and burning flesh at about the same time.

The watcher in the fire platform atop the tea house nearest the gate began tolling the big bell. Men and wome spilled into the streets. The inspector decided that if he couldn't get the cape off, he would run away from it. As he raced, shrieking, back into the city, people scattered in front of him.

"Idiots!" Ginji elbowed through the crowd, trying to clear a path for the fire brigade.

When Rin ducked through the low door, no one followed her. The government had devised a variety of inventive public executions, but seeing a man immolated alive was a rare form of entertainment. No one wanted to miss it. Rin was almost pushed back by those outside rushing in to see the spectacle.

Rin could hear people shouting when she went outside of the Great Gate. She waited until they stilled. The bell stopped ringing, but its booming voice resonated in Rin's ears.

The watchman's clappers struck midnight. The City was closed for the night.

Through the coarse skirt of her jacket coat, Rin hitched up the familiar waist band of her loincloth. She pushed the wide sash on her hips.

In her years as a courtesan, Rin had learned to converse with men. She knew their slang and their rhythm of speech. She was used to taking boys' parts in impromptu dances and dramas to entertain guests or for the amusement of the other women.

Without much effort she shed almost nineteen years of training as a paradigm of feminine grace and subtlety. She trotted into the darkness with a peculiar, flat footed, gait of a peasant used to scurrying.

"Idiots!" she grunted.

~xxoxx~

A/n: My last update for this month. I'll not be around for several months. Sesshomaru will show up on chapter 5, I guess. Thanks for reading! Please read and review my other sessrin story too. Thanks again. :)

Sorry for the grammatical errors.

~Yui Shunrei Ryuzaki


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